


Dead Like Me

by starhawk2005



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Het, Necrophilia, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-09
Updated: 2012-09-09
Packaged: 2017-11-13 21:51:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starhawk2005/pseuds/starhawk2005
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If this is the only way she can be with Owen, Tosh is willing to take it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dead Like Me

His skin is cold when she touches it. Maybe if she wasn’t in love with him, Tosh would find the unnatural temperature of his skin off-putting, but he’s dead ( _undead, not-dead, not alive, bought the farm, kicked the bucket, exited stage left_ ) and there’s nothing she or Jack or anyone else can do about it.

If this is the only way she can be with Owen, Tosh is willing to take it.

“You don’t have to do this, Tosh,” Owen says, taking her hand – cold fingers, too – and tugging it down from where she’d been resting it against his cheek.

“I want to,” she says, and it’s the simple truth. It’s always been this simple, but Owen’s been too blind to see it until now. 

“I’m _dead_ , Tosh,” he reminds her harshly, turning away towards the kitchen counter. Flowers in a vase, wine, a half-eaten plate of dinner. One setting only, of course: hers.

She casts about in her head for some reply, something humourous that’ll make Owen laugh, help release the tension, but she’s never been good at this sort of thing. “You know,” she tries, “That’s a turn-on for some people. I hear vampires are really ‘in’ right now.”

He chuckles dryly, his back to her. “I don’t have the teeth for it.”

She smiles. “We could _pretend_ ,” she suggests.

It’s the wrong thing to say. “Don’t you get it, Toshiko?” he whirls to face her. “This, you and me….it IS pretend. I can’t give you _anything_ , not this way.” He takes a deep breath, eyes dropping to the floor.

“Yes, you can,” Tosh retorts, but then she flounders. She’s never been good at this sort of thing at the best of times, and these obviously are not the best of times.

Still, she was brave enough to finally let him know how she feels, and she was brave enough to come over here for a ‘date’, and she’s not about to back down now.

“I’ll show you,” she declares, and marches right up to him, pulling him down for a kiss. 

He resists at first, but Tosh can be just as stubborn as him. When he does give in, it’s pleasant, if unusual. There’s the lack of body heat, and for Owen to need to breathe, but the rest….it’s no different than any man. Soft lips, gentle touches.

And he still tries to slip her the tongue. Typical man indeed!

Somehow, they wind up in his bedroom. Tosh doesn’t notice the rumpled sheets or the dirty piles of laundry, there’s just Owen’s cold but nimble hands tugging at her shirt buttons, and her own hands fumbling at the catch of his jeans.

He can’t get an erection – you need a heartbeat for that, apparently – but they both expected that and it doesn’t merit more than a passing glance from either of them. They can still kiss (and do), they can still touch. He can still take one of her nipples between his teeth, he can still slide a finger or two inside her – it’s even kind of kinky, his coolness reaching inside her heat.

There are no noises but hers, but Owen’s smirking up at her in his familiar way, obviously enjoying the show, and that’s enough for Tosh. When his thumb presses against her clit, caressing and massaging, there’s no going back, and she calls out his name, shuddering and collapsing bonelessly across his chest.

There’s no heartbeat under her ear, no movement of his lungs under her hand, but his arms are tight around her and his lips brush her forehead, and that’s enough.

“Thank you, Tosh,” he says after a time. She doesn’t need to ask why. 

 

 


End file.
